


Enough

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 'clothes stealing', Grinding, M/M, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:35:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Akaashi wants nothing more than to be useful to his star in any way.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52
Collections: Fanfic Anonymous





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a fic I read a few days ago and now can't find. It isn't mentioned throughout the fic because I thought it'd distract too much, but I imagined Akaashi thought Bokuto was more straight-leaning in this fic which is why he felt the need to do what he fucking does homies.

Akaashi entered his bedroom and threw his school bag and athletic duffle onto his bed. He took a moment to check over his class materials to assure himself that he didn’t have anything due, then tucked his bag aside for the next day. Then he turned to his bag. With a blush, he played with the main zipper, glancing to the door he left open leading out to the hallway. 

He tugged his hand away. With as much grace and calmness that he could muster, he shut his door and dragged his desk chair under the handle. He didn’t have a lock and he didn’t have the guts to ask his parents to install one. He could imagine the questions they’d bombard him with. No, he rather just use a chair and hope it was enough to stop the door from creaking open to reveal his private activities. 

He loosened his blue tie with a sigh as he crossed the room. He stopped as his knees touched the bed and dragged his free hand along his duffle bag, fingers slowly tracing the stitching with interest. 

Akaashi prided himself in being a good person. He let others borrow his notes, he did his chores in a timely manner, and he gave his all at practice for his ace. It was hard to find fault in him unless he let his anxiety get the best of him and vented his frustration out of nowhere to a poor, unsuspecting victim. All in all, he was a role model, a perfect example of an ideal high school student. 

But he had a tendency to slip up some days. And, yes, they were always intentional and fueled by pure greed on his end. So, when he saw Bokuto accidentally throw his jersey into Akaashi’s bag after their practice, Akaashi didn’t comment as he placed his own jersey on top of it to. He didn’t say a word as Bokuto finished changing and headed out without noticing, and he didn’t text Bokuto to say ‘Hey! Did you lose your shirt? Well, it’s in my bag. Do you want to meet so I can give it to you?’. 

Really, it was Bokuto’s fault. This isn’t the first time he’s done this, and that’s why he has to buy new sports attire or school clothes monthly. It’s not his fault that Bokuto easily mistook where he was putting his things, leading to two jackets, one wrinkled collared shirt, a pair of shorts, and two sweatbands ending up nestled in Akaashi’s room. 

He eyed a sleeve of one of Bokuto’s old jackets poking out from beside his pillows on his bed and sighed, shaking his head. He really wasn’t to blame. 

He finished shrugging off his clothes, leaving his boxers in place. When he was done, he gathered the jacket by his pillow. A shiver ran up his spine. He didn’t know if it was because he was cold standing there near naked, or the feel of Bokuto’s jacket against his fingertips, but he didn’t take time to figure it out. Bowing his head bashfully, he tugged Bokuto’s coat on. He pushed his arms through the sleeves, a shaky sigh leaving his lips as he admired their slight, but noticeable size difference. 

He crawled onto his bed, easing himself down to sit back on his feet, knees parted in front of him. He zipped the jacket up slowly, rocking his hips a little as he did. 

Biting his lip, Akaashi wiggled his lips to settle for a more comfortable position, but remained mostly as he was before, curled in on himself and blushing down at his blue sheets. Taking a deep breath in, he fumbled with his bag until he managed to pull out Bokuto’s jersey. As he held it close, he noticed his free hand already snaking down to touch himself. Huffing in disapproval, he pulled his hand away, instead forcing himself to grab a pillow. 

Akaashi raised himself up a little to place the pillow under him, then settled down on it, frowning when it sank under his weight. Rolling his eyes, he reached for his other pillow, but spotted the same issue. A whine of frustration escaped his throat as he stood from his bed and started looking around the room for something harder to straddle- anything that would help his imagination along. 

In the end, he defeatedly climbed back onto his bed. With only a metal water bottle in his hands, he adjusted back onto the pillow and placed the bottle between his legs. While he appreciated the hardness pressing against his cock and taint, it was cold. He didn’t move it away, instead using his shivers to guide Bokuto’s jersey to his nose. He took a deep breath, body easing against the bottle. 

“A-Ah,” He gasped purely for show, blushing harder as he rocked his hips against the bottle. He closed his eyes to not have to witness his own embarrassing display as he arched his back, rolling his hips down fluidly against the bottle in a way he hoped was sexy or alluring or anything good. “S-So good for me…”

He slowly dragged the jacket zipper down to make a show of exposing his skin. It fell from his shoulders before he reached the end, pooling around his hips. Interest stirred in his gut. He hoped that looked as powerful as he felt as he bit his lip and finished stripping out of the jacket.

Running a hand through his hair, he craned his neck back. Akaashi grinded his hips, hissing at the cold tinges that raced up his thighs from the metal below him. 

Circling hips, harsh grinds, running his hands along his pillow as he imagined it being a toned body. It was embarrassing to admit he studied the art of seduction as best as he could. After his initial experiences of rutting like an animal until he reached release, he realized his technique needed work. His pleasure needed to be put on the backburner briefly in order to sell himself. He wanted to be desirable, able to draw a partner in with the fluidity of his movements and the confidence littered in his actions. Well, not any partner- it was a specific one. 

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi whispered to himself, guiding the shirt back to his face. He prayed he wouldn’t actually be burying his face into Bokuto’s chest in embarrassment should his fantasies ever come true. Then again, he felt like he’d be more comfortable if foreign hands were roaming his chest and he could hear whispers like ‘You are so perfect, Kaashi. Spread your legs more, baby. I want to see you.” A whimper left his lips as he did as his imagination desired, spreading his legs. He ran his fingers along his thighs, then up his sides. At first it was to draw Bokuto in, but then it ended with his mind picturing his hands replaced with smaller, thicker fingers. “Bokuto-san, please.”

No. Akaashi winced, shaking his head. He rolled his hips, hard, clothed cock rubbing against his water bottle. If he was doing this, if he was putting himself out there, he needed to do it right. And to do it right, he needed to play into what Bokuto would want. 

“I-I want…” Akaashi began with a low voice. He closed his eyes tight, fighting back his uncertainty. This is what he was here for. He’d say stupid things, make bad moves, and from those mistakes, he’d be good for Bokuto. All of this was to please Bokuto. “I want you so badly… I want your cock inside me and uh… milk it dry inside. I-”

Akaashi gasped when his hips spazzed against the bottle, a particularly strong wave of pleasure rushing through him. He pulled himself together, schooling his grinds as he mumbled out, “Wish… wish I could suck you… Ah-After practice, I wish you’d fu-fucking use me, use my mouth.”

He ran his fingers along his lips, trembling as his rocking sped up against the bottle. “Let me please you. I can be enough.”

An ugly feeling creeped up in his stomach as the words sunk into the already dense air, like weights on his shoulder. He shook his head, eyes watery as his pleasure grew and grew. “I am enough. I can do it.”

He slipped two fingers into his mouth, eagerly getting to work sucking the digits with vigor. He pressed them back as far as he could go, mentally applauding himself from not gagging. It took a while for that to become an almost natural, pleasant feeling. He wondered how it’d feel with a mouthful more than his fingers. 

His intentions were to coat his fingers with spit before stretching himself open. Unfortunately, the harder he sucked, the harder his brain hit him with the vision of Bokuto with his hand buried in Akaashi’s hair, ‘Don’t you want something more than that? Think you can take me?’.

“Please, please, please,” Akaashi begged, fingers falling from his mouth. His hands balled around the jersey and the pillow as he thrusted hard against the bottle. Moans fell from his lips, egging him to continue fucking down onto the pillow. The movements were warming up the bottle, much to his relief, and it was easier to make himself believe he was grinding down on Bokuto. That being said, his control had slipped completely and he was more or less dry humping Bokuto, clinging to him to keep him still in order to take his pleasure into his own hands. He doubted Bokuto would allow that to happen in real life, but it didn’t stop him from cumming in his briefs. His hips twitched as his back bended, chasing down the last lines of pleasure before everything stilled except for his heaving chest. 

He glanced down with a frown, eying the wet spot growing below. His dismay only grew as he relieved his session in his head, disappointment clouding his chest. Yeah, as if he’d be enough if he came so quickly and couldn’t even hold on until there was something inside him. 

He tucked the jacket back beside his pillow, then threw the shirt on the pillow he used. He wrestled out of his briefs and threw them across the room into his laundry hamper. After settling the shirt on the pillow as neatly as possible, he threw it in a hug and fell back on his sheets. 

Akaashi buried his face against the shirt, breathing in the intoxicating smell of Bokuto’s sweat, a hint of his deodorant, and a scent that reminded him of the gym. Resting his cheek against the fabric, he traced a finger down the number 4 and smiled to himself. 

“I really am pathetic, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Again this was inspired by a piece I read a few days ago- hopefully I can find it and link it. This piece also had a Bokuto chapter of Pretty Much This Kind Of Theme, so I might do that as well if you guys want? Thanks for reading.


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